Ace in Zombieland
by heiresshelena
Summary: Ace never expected that his life would turn into a whole 360. The nightmares will haunt him in his sleep, the guilt will follow him everywhere, and the regret will turn him into a mad person that he never thought he will become. Why it had to be him? -This is based from the story of Gena Showalter's Alice in Zombieland (White Rabbit Chronicles #1) .
1. A note from Ace

**This is actually the original story line of Alice in Zombieland but I would be changing bits by bits in the story. I just loved this story and I thought that why not? Hope you'll like this.**

**WARNING: Yaoi/Manxman/shonenai**

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Alice in Zombieland and One Piece._

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**A Note from Ace:**

Had anyone told me that my entire life would change course between one heartbeat and the next, I would have laughed. From blissful to tragic, innocent to ruined? Please.

But that's all it took. **One heartbeat**. A blink, a breath, a second, and everything I knew and loved were gone.

My name is Gol D. Ace, and on the night of my eighteenth birthday I lost the mother I loved, the brother I adored and the father I never understood until it was too late. Until that heartbeat when my entire world collapsed and a new one took shape around me.

My father was right. Monsters walk among us.

At night, these living dead, these…zombies…rise from their graves, and they crave what they lost. Life. They will feed on you. They will infect you. And then they will kill you. If that happens, you will rise from your grave. It's an endless cycle, like a mouse running inside a barbed wheel, bleeding and dying as those sharp tips dig ever deeper, with no way to stop the lethal momentum.

These zombies feel no fear, know no pain, but they hunger. Oh, do they hunger. There's only one way to stop them—but I can't tell you how. You'll have to be shown. What I can tell you is that we must fight the zombies to disable them. To fight them, we must get close to them. To get close to them, we must be a little brave and a whole lot crazy.

But you know what? I'd rather the world considered me crazy while I go down fighting than spend the rest of my life hiding from the truth. Zombies are real. They're out there.

If you aren't vigilant, they'll get you, too. So. Yeah. I should have listened to my father. He warned me over and over again never to go out at night, never to venture into a cemetery and never, under any circumstances, to trust someone who wants you to do either. He should have taken his own advice, because he trusted me—and I convinced him to do both.

I wish I could go back and do a thousand things differently. I'd tell my brother **no**. I'd never beg my mother to talk to my dad. I'd stop my tears from falling. I'd zip my lips and swallow those hateful words.

Or, barring all of that, I'd hug my brother, my mom and my dad one last time. I'd tell them I love them.

I wish…yeah, I wish.

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3 updates n a row! Wow! Hope you will like this and remember I don't own Alice in Zombieland I just love the story that I borrowed it. Please, spare me!


	2. Down the Zombie Hole

**Hello guys! This is the start of Ace adventure in Zombieland. Hope you'll like this. Thank you! **

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in anime and I don't own Alice in Zombieland._

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**Down the Zombie Hole**

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**Six months ago**

"Please, Ace. Please."

I lay sprawled on a blanket in my backyard, eating melon bread and bacon bread with my little brother. The sun shone brightly as puffy white clouds ghosted across an endless expanse of baby blue. As I breathed in the thick honeysuckle and lavender perfume of the Alabasta summer, I could make out a few shapes. A long, leggy caterpillar. A butterfly with one of its wings shredded. A fat white rabbit, racing toward a tree.

Seven-years-old Luffy grinned at me as he finished the meat bread. He wore an authentic pirate costume that matched his straw hat that was given by Shanks, a close friend of dad. He was a miniature version of our father and the complete opposite of me. Both possessed a slick fall of dark hair and dark brown eyes but his eyes are bigger making the little boy so cute. My father is tall but my mother was short, barely over five-five, and little Luffy had her height in what I could observed. Me? I had wavy black hair, big dark red eyes (but still black I supposed), visible freckles that I got from my mother and legs that stretched for miles. At five- ten, I was taller than most of the boys at my school and always stood out—I couldn't go anywhere without getting a few what-are-you-a-giraffe? stares.

Girls (or boys) had never shown an interest in me, but I couldn't count the number of times I had caught one boy drooling over my mom as she walked by or— gag—heard one whistle as she bent over to pick something up.

"Ace-y." At my side now, Luffy stomped his slippered foot in a bid for my attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Little bro, we've gone over this, like, a thousand times. Your recital might start while it's sunny out, but it'll end at dark. You know Dad will never let us leave the house. And Mom agreed to sign you up for the program as long as you swore never to throw a tantrum when you couldn't make a practice or a, what? Recital."

He stepped over me and planted his slippers at my shoulders, his slight body throwing a large enough shadow to shield my face from the overhead glare. He became all that I could see, a poor little puppy pleading down at me. "Today's your birthday, and I know, I know, I forgot this morning…and this afternoon…but last week I remembered that it was coming up—you remember how I told Mom, right?—and now I've remembered again, so doesn't that count for something? 'Course it does," he added before I could say anything. "Daddy has to do whatever you ask. So, if you ask him to let us go, and… and…" so much longing in his tone "…and ask if he'll come and watch me, too, then he will."

My birthday. Yeah. My parents had forgotten, too. Again. Unlike Luffy, they hadn't remembered—and wouldn't. Last year, my dad had been a little too busy throwing back shot of single malt and mumbling about monsters only he could see and my mom had been a little too busy cleaning up his mess. As always. This year, Mom had hidden notes in drawers to remind herself (I'd found them), and as Luffy had claimed, my baby bro had even hinted before flat out saying, "Hey, Ace's birthday is coming up and I think he deserves a party!" but I'd woken up this morning to the same old same old. Nothing had changed.

Whatever. I was a year older, finally seventeen, but my life was still the same. Honestly, it wasn't a big deal. I'd stopped caring a long time ago. Luffy, though, he cared. He wanted what I'd never had: their undivided attention.

"Since today's my birthday, shouldn't you be doing something for me?" I asked, hoping to tease him into forgetting about his first theatre performance and the pirate role he liked to say he "had been born to perform."

He fisted his hands on his hips, all innocence and indignation and, well, my favorite thing in the entire world. "Hello! Letting you do this for me is my gift to you."

I tried not to grin. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, because I know you want to watch me so badly you're practically foaming at the mouth."

Brat. But like I could really argue with his logic. I did want to watch him.

I remember the night Luffy was born. A wild mix of fear and elation had seared the memory into my mind. Just like my parents had done with me, they had opted to use a midwife who made house calls so that, when the big moment arrived, Mom wouldn't have to leave home.

But even that plan had failed.

The sun had already set by the time her contractions started and my dad had refused to open the door to the midwife, too afraid a monster would follow her in. So, Dad had delivered Luffy while my mom nearly screamed us all to death. I had hidden under my covers, waiting and shaking because I'd been so afraid.

When everything had finally quieted, I'd snuck into their bedroom to make sure everyone had survived. Dad bustled about while Mom lounged on the bed. Tentative steps had taken me to the edge, and, to be honest, I'd gasped in horror. Baby Luffy had not been attractive. He'd been red and wrinkly, with the most hideous dark hair on his ears. (I'm happy to say the hair has since been shed.) Mom had been all smiles as she waved me over to hold my "new best friend."

I'd settled beside her, pillows fluffing behind me, and she'd placed the wiggly bundle in my arms. Eyes so beautiful only God Himself could have created them had peered up at me, rosy lips puckering and tiny fists waving.

"What should we name him?" Mom had asked.

When short, chubby fingers had wrapped around one of mine, skin soft and warm, I'd decided that hair on the ears wasn't such a terrible thing, after all. "Luffy," I'd replied. "We should name him Luffy." My mom's soft chuckle had washed over me. "I like that. How about Gol D. Luffy, since Oyaji's real name is Luffy and it'd be nice to honor my father the way we honored your dad's when you were born. We can call our little miracle Luff for short, and the three of us will share a wonderful secret. You're my flaming Ace and he's my energetic Luffy, and together the two of you are my perfect one piece treasure."

I hadn't needed time to think about that. "Okay. Deal!"

Luffy had gurgled, and I'd taken that as approval.

"Gol D. Ace," Luffy said now. "You're lost in your head again, when I've never needed you more."

"All right, fine," I said on a sigh. I just couldn't deny him. Never had, never would. "I'm not talking to Dad, though. I'm talking to Mom and making her talk to him."

The first sparkle of hope ignited. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

A brilliant smile bloomed, and his bouncing started up again. "Please, Ace. You gotta talk to her now. I don't want to be late, and if Dad agrees we'll need to leave soon so I can warm up on stage with the other guys. Please. Nooow."

I sat up and patted his head. "You know the likelihood of success is pretty low, right?"

A cardinal rule in the Gol household: you did not leave the house if you couldn't return before dark. Here, Dad had worked up "reinforcements" against the monsters, ensuring none of them could get in. After dark, well, you stayed put. Anyone out in the big bad world was without any type of protection and considered open season.

My father's paranoia and delusion had caused me to miss numerous school activities and countless sporting events. I'd never even been on a date. Yes, I could have gone on a weekend lunch date and other craptasticly lame things like that, but honestly? I had no desire for a girlfriend (or a boyfriend). I never wanted to have to explain that my dad was certifiable, or that he sometimes locked us in the "special" basement he'd built as added protection from a boogeyman that did not exist. Yeah, just peachy.

Luffy threw his arms around me. "You can do it, I know you can. You can do anything!"

His faith in me…so humbling.

"I'll do my best."

"Your best is— Oh, ick!" Face scrunched with horror, he jumped as far away from me as he could get. "You're all gross and wet, and you made me all gross and wet."

Laughing, I lunged for him. He squealed and darted off. I'd run the hose over myself about half an hour ago, hoping to cool down. Not that I'd tell him. The fun of sibling torture, and all that.

"Stay out here, okay?" Mom would say something that would hurt her feelings, and I'd say something to make her feel bad for asking me to do this, and she'd cry. I hated when she cried.

"Sure, sure," he said, palms up in a gesture of innocence. Like I was buying that hasty assurance. He planned to follow me and listen, no question. Boy was devious like that. "Promise me."

"I can't believe you'd doubt me." A little hand fluttered over his heart. "That hurts, Ace. That really hurts."

"First, major congrats. Your acting has improved tremendously," I said with a round of applause. "Second, say the words or I'll return to working on a tan I'll never achieve." Grinning, he saluted to me and bowed like a butler. The sun chose that moment to toss out an amber ray, creating the perfect spotlight for his little act. "Okay, okay. I promise. Happy now?"

"Sublimely." He might be devious, but he never broke a promise.

"Watch me pretend I know what that means."

"It means—oh, never mind." I was stalling, and I knew it. "I'm going."

With all the enthusiasm of a firing squad candidate, I stood and turned toward our house, a two-story my dad had built in the prime of his construction days, with brown brick on the bottom and brown-and-white-striped wood on the top. Kind of boxy, amazingly average and absolutely, one hundred percent forgettable. But then, that's what he'd been going for, he'd said.

My shoes clapped against the ground, creating a mantra inside my head. Don't. Fail. Don't. Fail. Finally I stood at the glass doors that led to our kitchen and spotted my mom, bustling from the sink to the stove and back again. I watched her, a bit sick to my stomach.

Don't be a wuss. You can do this. I pushed my way inside. Garlic, butter and tomato paste scented the air. "Hey," I said, and hoped I hadn't cringed. Mom glanced up from the steaming strainer of noodles and smiled. "Hey, baby. Coming in for good or just taking a break?"

"Break." The forced incarceration at night drove me to spend as much time as possible outside during daylight hours, whether I burned to lobster-red or not. "Well, your timing's great. The spaghetti's almost done."

"Yeah, okay, good." During the summer months, we ate dinner at five sharp. Winter, we switched it up to four. That way, no matter the season, we could be in our rooms and safe before sunset. The walls were reinforced with some kind of steel, and the doors and locks were impenetrable. And yes, those things made our futuristic dungeon known as "the basement" overkill, but you try reasoning with a crazy person.

Just do it. Just say it. "So, um, yeah." I shifted from one foot to the other. "Today's my birthday."

Her jaw dropped, her cheeks bleaching of color. "Oh…dear. Ace I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… I should have remembered…I even made myself notes. Happy birthday," she finished lamely. She looked around, as if hoping a present would somehow appear via the force of her will. "I feel terrible."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'll do something to make this up to you, I swear."

And so the negotiations have begun. I squared my shoulders. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course."

"Good, because Luffy has a recital tonight and I want to go."

Though my mom radiated sadness, she was shaking her head even before I finished. "You know your dad will never agree."

"So talk to him. Convince him."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because." A croak. I loved this woman, I truly did, but, oh, she could frustrate me like no one else. "Because why?" I insisted. Even if she cried, I wasn't dropping this. Better her tears than Luffy's. Mom pivoted, she carried the strainer to the pot and dumped the contents inside. Steam rose and wafted around her, and for a moment, she looked as if she were part of a dream. "Luffy knows the rules. He'll understand." The way I'd had to understand, time and time again before I'd just given up? Anger sparked. "Why do you do this? Why do you always agree with him when you know he's off-the- charts insane?"

"He's not—"

"He is!" Like Luffy, I stomped my foot.

"Quiet," she said, her tone admonishing. "He's upstairs."

Yeah, and I'd bet he was already drunk.

She added, "We've talked about this, Ace. I believe your dad sees something the rest of us can't. But before you cast stones at him or me, take a look at the Bible. Once upon a time our Lord and Savior were persecuted. Tons of people doubted Jesus."

"Dad isn't Jesus!" He rarely even went to church with us.

"I know, and that's not what I'm saying. I believe there are forces at work all around us. Forces for good and forces for evil."

I couldn't get involved in another good/evil debate with her. I just couldn't. I believed in God, and I believed there were angels and demons out there, but we never had to deal with the evil stuff, did we? "I wish you would divorce him," I muttered, then bit my tongue in regret—but even still, I refused to apologize.

She worked from home seven days a week as a medical transcriptionist, and was always type, type, typing away at her computer. On weekends, like this fine Saturday evening, she acted like my dad's nursemaid, too, cleaning him up, fetching and carrying for him. She deserved so much more. She was young, for a mom, and so dang pretty. She was softhearted and funny and deserved some pampering of her own.

"Most kids want their parents to stay together," she said, a sharp edge to her voice.

"I'm not like most kids. You guys made sure of that." There was an even sharper edge to my voice.

I just…I wanted what other kids had. A normal life.

In a snap, the anger drained from her and she sighed. "Ace, I know this is hard. I know you want more for yourself, and one day you'll have it. You'll graduate, get a job, move out, go to college, fall in love, travel, and do whatever your heart desires. As for now, this is your father's house and he makes the rules. You will follow those rules and respect his authority."

Straight out of the Parent's Official Handbook, right under the heading: What to say when you don't have a real answer for your kid. "And maybe," she added, "when you're in charge of your own household, you'll realize your dad did the things he did to protect us. He loves us, and our safety is the most important thing to him. Don't hate him for that."

I should have known. The good and evil speech always circled around to love and hate. "Have you ever seen one of his monsters?" I asked.

A pause. A nervous laugh. "I have refused to answer that question the other thousand times you asked, so what makes you think I'll answer it today?"

"Consider it a late birthday present, since you won't give me what I really want." That was a low blow, and I knew it. But again, I refused to apologize. She flinched. "I don't like to discuss these things with you boys because I don't want to scare you further."

"We aren't scared," I lashed out. "You are!" Calm down. Deep breath in…out… I had to do this rationally. If I freaked, she'd send me to my room and that would be that. "Over the years, you should have seen at least one monster. I mean, you spend the most time with Dad. You're with him at night, when he patrols the house with a gun."

The only time I'd dared venture into the hall after midnight, hoping to get a glass of water since I'd forgotten to bring one to my room, that's what I'd seen. My dad clutching a pistol, marching this way and that, stopping to peer out each and every window. I'd been twelve at the time, and I'd almost died of a heart attack. Or maybe embarrassment, since I'd come pretty close to peeing myself.

"Fine. You want to know, I'll tell you. No, I haven't seen them," she said, not really shocking me. "But I have seen the destruction they cause. And before you ask me how I know they were the ones to cause the destruction, let me add that I've seen things that can't be explained any other way."

"Like what?" I peeked over my shoulder. Luffy had moved to the swing set and was now rocking back and forth, but he hadn't dropped me from the crosshairs of his hawk eyes.

"That, I still won't tell you," Mom said. "There are some things you're better off not knowing, no matter what you say. You're just not ready. Babies can handle milk, but they can't handle meat."

I wasn't a baby, blah, blah, blah, whatever. Worry had contorted Luffy's features. I forced myself to smile, and he immediately brightened as if this was now a done deal. As if I hadn't failed him in this regard a million times before.

Like the time he'd wanted to attend the art exhibit at his school, where his papier- mâché globe had been on display. Like the time his Boy Scout troop had gone camping. Like the hundred times his friend Usopp had called and asked if he could stay the night. Finally, Usopp had stopped calling.

Pressure building…can't fail this time…

I faced my mother. She still had her back to me and hadn't abandoned the stove. In fact, she was forking the noodles one at a time, testing their flexibility as if the chore was the most important thing ever. We'd done this same dance before. She was an avoider, and she'd just hit her stride.

"Forget the monsters and what you have and haven't seen. Today's my birthday, and all I want is for us to go to my brother's theatre recital like a normal family. That's it. That's all. I'm not asking for the world. But if you don't have the guts, fine. If Dad doesn't, whatever. I'll call one of my friends from school and we'll go without you." The drive into the city was at least half an hour, so there was no way we could walk. "And you know what? If you make me go that route, you'll break Luffy's heart and I will never forgive you."

She sucked in a breath, stiffened. I'd probably just shocked the crap out of her. I was the calm one in the family. I hardly ever lashed out, rarely went mental. For the most part, I accepted and I rolled.

"Ace," she said, and I gritted my teeth. Here it comes. The refusal. Tears of crushing devastation burned my eyes, splashed onto my cheeks. I scrubbed them away with the back of my hand. "Forget about my lack of forgiveness. I will hate you for this."

She glanced back at me, sighed. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "All right. I'll talk to him."

All through his performance, Luffy glowed. He also dominated that stage, kicking butt and not bothering with names. Honestly, he put the other boys to shame. And that wasn't sibling pride talking. That was just plain fact.

He jumped and smiled and utterly dazzled, and everyone who watched him was as enraptured as I was. Surely. By the time the curtain closed two hours later, I was so happy for him I could have burst. And maybe I did burst the eardrums of the people in front of me. I think I clapped louder than anyone, and I definitely whistled shrilly enough to cause brain bleeds.

Those people would just have to deal. This was the best. Birthday. Ever. For once, the Gol's had attended an event like a normal family.

Of course, my dad almost ruined everything by continually glancing at his wristwatch and turning to eye the back door as if he expected someone to volley in an H-bomb. So, by the time the crowd jumped up for a standing O, and despite my mad rush of happiness, he'd made me so tense my bones were practically vibrating.

Even still, I wasn't going to utter a single word of complaint. Miracle of miracles, he'd come. And all right, okay, so the miracle had been heralded by a bottle of his favourite whiskey, and he'd had to be stuffed in the passenger seat of the car like the cream filling in a Twinkie, but whatever. He had come!

"We need to leave," he said, already edging his way to the back door. At six-four, he was a tall man, and he loomed over everyone around him. "Grab Luffy and let's go."

Despite his shortcomings, despite how tired his self- medication had become, I loved him, and I knew he couldn't help his paranoia. He'd tried legitimate medication with no luck. He'd tried therapy and gotten worse. He saw monsters no one else could see, and he refused to believe they weren't actually there—or trying to eat him and kill all those he loved. In a way, I even understood him. One night, about a year ago, Luffy had been crying about the injustice of missing yet another slumber party. I, in turn, had raged at our mother, and she had been so shocked by my atypical outburst that she'd explained what she called "the beginning of your father's battle with evil."

As a kid, my dad had witnessed the brutal murder of his own mother. A murder that had happened at night, in a cemetery, while his mother had been visiting Grandfather Ace's grave. The event had traumatized my dad. So, yes, I got it.

Did that make me feel any better right now? No. He was an adult. Shouldn't he handle his problems with wisdom and maturity? I mean, how many times had I heard, "Act like an adult, Ace." Or, "Only a child would do something like that, Ace."

My take on that? Practice what you preach, people. But what did I know? I wasn't an ever-knowing adult; I was just expected to act like one. And, yeah. A real nice family tree I had. Murder and mayhem on every gnarled branch. Hardly seemed fair.

"Come on," he snapped now. My mom rushed to his side, all comfort and soothing pats. "Calm down, darling. Everything's going to be okay."

"We can't stay here. We have to get home where it's safe."

"I'll grab Luffy," I said. The first flickers of guilt hit me, stinging my chest. Maybe I'd asked too much of him. And of my mom, who would have to peel him from the roof of the car when we finally pulled into our monster-proof garage. "Don't worry."

My skirt tangled around my legs as I shoved my way through the crowd and raced past the stage curtain. Little boys and girls were everywhere, each of them wearing flamboyant costumes and accessories, cosplay devices and glitter than the few strippers I'd seen on TV. When I'd been innocently flipping channels. And accidentally stopped on stations I wasn't supposed to watch. Moms and dads were hugging their sons and daughters, praising them, handing them gifts, all about the congratulations on a job-well- done thing. Me, I had to grab my brother's hand and beat feet, dragging him behind me.

"Dad?" he asked, sounding unsurprised. I threw him a glance over my shoulder. He had paled those big dark brown eyes too old and knowledgeable for his angel face. "Yeah."

"What's the damage?"

"Nothing too bad. You'll still be able to venture into public without shame."

"Then I consider this a win." Me, too.

People swarmed and buzzed in the lobby like bees, half of them lingering, half of them working their way to the doors. That's where I found my dad. He'd stopped at the glass, his gaze panning the parking lot. Halogens were placed throughout, lighting the way to our Tahoe, which my mom had parked illegally in the closest handicapped space for an easy in, easy out. His skin had taken on a grayish cast, and his hair now stood on end, as if he'd scrambled his fingers through the strands one too many times.

Mom was still trying to soothe him. Thank goodness she'd managed to disarm him before we'd left the house. Usually he carried guns, knives and throwing stars whenever he dared to venture out. The moment I reached him, he turned and gripped me by the forearms, shaking me. "You see anything in the shadows, anything at all; you pick up your brother and run. Do you hear me? Pick him up and run back inside. Lock the doors, hide and call for help." His eyes were an electric black, wild, his pupils pulsing over his irises.

The guilt, well, it stopped flickering and kicked into a hard-core blaze. "I will," I promised, and patted both of his hands. "Don't worry about us. You taught me how to protect myself. Remember? I'll keep Luffy safe. No matter what."

"Okay," he said, but he looked far from satisfied. "Okay, then."

I'd spoken the truth. I didn't know how many hours I'd logged in the backyard with him, learning how to stop an attacker. Sure, those lessons had been all about protecting my vital organs from becoming some mindless being's dinner, but self-defense was self-defense, right?

Somehow my mom convinced him to release me and brave the terrifying outdoors. All the while people shot us weird looks that I tried to ignore. We walked together, as a family, our feet flying one in front of the other. Mom and Dad were in front, with me and Luffy a few steps behind them, holding hands as the crickets sang and provided us with an eerie soundtrack.

I glanced around, trying to see the world as my dad must. I saw a long stretch of black tar—camouflage? I saw a sea of cars—places to hide? I saw the forest beyond, rising from the hills—a breeding ground for nightmares?

Above, I saw the moon, high and full and beautifully transparent. Clouds still puffed through the sky, orange now and kind of creepy. And was that…surely not…but I blinked, slowed my pace. Yep. It was. The cloud shaped like a rabbit had followed me. Fancy that.

"Look at the clouds," I said. "Notice anything cool?"

A pause, then, "A…rabbit?"

"Exactly. I saw him this morning. He must think we're pretty awesome."

"Because we are, duh."

My dad realized we'd lagged behind, sprinted the distance between us, grabbed on to my wrist and jerked me faster… faster still…while I maintained my grip on Luffy and jerked him along. I'd rather dislocate his shoulder than leave him behind, even for a second. Dad loved us, but part of me feared he'd drive off without us if he thought it necessary.

He opened the car door and practically tossed me in like a football. Luffy was next, and we shared a moment of silent communication after we settled.

Fun times, I mouthed.

Happy birthday to you, he mouthed back.

The instant my dad was in the passenger seat he threw the locks. He was shaking too hard to buckle his belt, and finally gave up. "Don't drive by the cemetery," he told Mom, "but get us home as fast as you can." We'd avoided the cemetery on the way here, too—despite the daylight—adding unnecessary time to an already lengthy drive.

"I will. No worries." The Tahoe roared to life, and Mom yanked the shifter into Reverse.

"Dad," I said, my voice as reasonable as I could make it. "If we take the long way, we'll be snailing it along construction." We lived just outside big, beautiful Goa City and traffic could be a nasty monster on its own. "That'll add at least half an hour to our trip. You don't want us to stay in the dark, at a standstill, for that long, do you?" He'd work himself into such a panic we'd all be clawing at the doors to escape.

"Honey?" Mom asked. The car eased to the edge of the lot, where she had to go left or right. If she went left, we'd never make it home. Seriously. If I had to listen to my dad for more than thirty minutes, I'd jump out the window and as an act of mercy I'd take Luffy with me. If Mom went right, we'd have a short ride, a short anxiety attack to deal with, but a quick recovery. "I'll drive so fast you won't even be able to see the cemetery."

"No. Too risky."

"Please, Daddy," I said, not above manipulation. As I'd already proved. "For me. On my birthday. I won't ask for anything else, I promise, even though you guys forgot the last one and I never got a present."

"I…I…" His gaze shifted continually, scanning the nearby trees for movement.

"Please. Luffy needs to be tucked into bed, like, soon, or he'll morph like a burned rubber." As we'd long ago dubbed him. My bro got tired, and he left carnage in his wake.

Lips pursed, Luffy slapped my arm. I shrugged, the universal sign for well, it's true.

Dad pushed out a heavy breath. "Okay. Okay. Just… break the sound barrier, babe," he said, kissing my mom's hand. "I will. You have my word."

My parents shared a soft smile. I felt like a voyeur for noticing; used to be, they'd enjoyed these kinds of moments all the time, but the smiles had become less and less frequent over the years.

"All right, here we go." Mom swung the vehicle right, and to my utter astonishment, she really did try to break the sound barrier, weaving in and out of lanes, honking at the slower cars, riding bumpers.

I was impressed. The few driving lessons she'd given me, she'd been a nervous wreck, which had turned me into a nervous wreck. We hadn't gone far or cranked the speed above twenty-five, even outside our neighborhood.

She kept up a steady stream of chatter, and I watched the clock on my phone. The minutes ticked by, until we'd gone ten without a single incident. Only twenty more to go. Dad kept his nose pressed to the window, his frantic breaths leaving puffs of mist on the glass. Maybe he was enjoying the mountains, valleys and lush green trees highlighted by the streetlamps, rather than searching for monsters.

Yeah. Right.

"So how'd I do?" Luffy whispered in my direction.

I reached over and squeezed his hand. "You were amazing."

His dark brows knit together, and I knew what was coming next. Suspicion. "You swear?"

"Swear. You rocked the house hard-core. In comparison, the other boys sucked."

He covered his mouth to stop himself from giggling.

I couldn't help but add, "The girl who's you around? I think she was considering pushing you off the stage, just so people would finally look at her. Honestly, every eye was riveted on you."

The giggle bubbled out this time, unstoppable. "So what you're saying is, when I tripped over my own feet, everyone noticed."

"Trip? What trip? You mean that wasn't part of the routine?"

He gave me a high five. "Good answer."

"Ace," Mom said, apprehension straining her voice. "Find some music for us to listen to, okay?"

Uh-oh. She must want him distracted. I leaned over and glanced out the front windshield. Sure enough. We were approaching the cemetery. At least there were no other cars around, so no one would witness my dad's oncoming breakdown. And he would have one. I could feel the tension thickening the air.

"No music," he said. "I need to concentrate, remain on alert. I have to—" He stiffened, gripped the armrests on his seat until his knuckles whitened.

A moment of silence passed such thick, heavy silence.

His panting breaths emerged faster and faster—until he roared so piercingly I cringed. "They're out there! They're going to attack us!" He grabbed the wheel and yanked. "Don't you see them? We're headed right for them. Turn around! You have to turn around." The Tahoe swerved, hard, and Luffy screamed. I grabbed his hand, gave him another squeeze, but I refused to let go. My heart was pounding against my ribs, a cold sweat beading over my skin. I'd promised to protect him tonight, and I would.

"It's gonna be okay," I told him. His tremors were so violent they even shook me.

"Honey, listen to me," Mom soothed. "We're safe in the car. No one can hurt us. We have to—"

"No! If we don't turn around they'll follow us home!" My dad was thoroughly freaked, and nothing Mom said had registered. "We have to turn around." He made another play for the wheel, gave another, harder yank, and this time, we didn't just swerve, we spun.

Round and round, round and round. My grip on Luffy tightened.

"Ace," he cried.

"It's okay, it's okay," I chanted. The world was whizzing, blurring…the car teetering…my dad shouting a curse…my mom gasping…the car tilting…tilting…

**FREEZE FRAME. **

I remember when Luffy and I used to play that game. We'd crank the volume of our iPod dock—loud, pounding rock— and boogie like we were having seizures. One of us would shout freeze frame and we'd instantly stop moving, totally frozen, trying not to laugh, until one of us yelled the magic word to shoot us back into motion. Dance.

I wish I could have shouted freeze frame in just that moment and rearranged the scenery, the players. But life isn't a game, is it?

**DANCE. **

We went airborne, flipping over, crashing into the road upside down, and then flipping over again. The sound of crunching metal, shattering glass and pained screams filled my ears. I was thrown back and forth in my seat, my brain becoming a cherry slushy in my head as different impacts jarred me and stole my breath. When we finally landed, I was so dazed, so fogged, I felt like I was still in motion. The screams had stopped, at least.

All I heard was a slight ringing in my ears. "Mom? Dad?" A pause. No response. "Luffy?" Again, nothing. I frowned, looked around. My eyesight was hazy, something warm and wet in my lashes, but I could see well enough.

And what I saw utterly destroyed me.

I screamed. My mom was slashed to ribbons, her body covered in blood. Luffy was slumped over in his seat, his head at an odd angle, his cheek split open. No. No, no, no.

"Dad, help me. We have to get them out!"

Silence.

"Dad?" I searched—and realized he was no longer in the car. The front windshield was gone, and he was lying motionless on the pieces a few yards away. There were three men standing over his body, the car's headlights illuminating them.

No, they weren't men, I realized. They couldn't be. They had sagging pockmarked skin and dirty, ripped clothing. Their hair hung in clumps on their spotted scalps, and their teeth…so sharp as they…as they…fell upon my dad and disappeared inside him, only to reappear a second later and… and…eat him.

Monsters.

I fought for my freedom, desperate to drag Luffy to safety —Luffy, who hadn't moved and wasn't crying—desperate to get to my dad, to help him. In the process, I banged my head against something hard and sharp. A horrible pain ravaged me, but still I fought, even as my strength waned…my eyesight dimmed…

Then it was night-night for Ace, and I knew nothing more.

At least, for a little while…

* * *

Man that is a very devastating tragedy for Ace. Tsk! Review Please!


	3. The Pool of Blood and Tears

I wanted to say that...*sigh*. I need a job...stupid me.

**_Disclaimer: _**_I own nothing in anime just my crazy imaginative brain._

* * *

**The Pool of Blood and Tears **

They were dead. My family was dead. Gone. I knew it when I woke up in a hospital bed, and the nurse standing over me wouldn't meet my gaze or tell me where they were. When the doctor came to spill the news, I just shifted to my side and closed my eyes. This was a dream. This was a horrible dream, and I would wake up. Everything would be okay when I woke up.

I never woke up.

Turns out, the car wreck that killed my mom, my dad and my…my… I couldn't think about him. I just couldn't. So. Rephrase. The car wreck that killed my family had caused minimal damage to me. A concussion, a few cracked ribs, but that was it. And that just seemed so wrong, you know? I should have been slashed to ribbons, like my mother. I should have needed a total body cast. Something.

Instead, despite some minor aches and pains, I really was fine. Fine. Yeah.

My grandparents from my mother's side visited several times, crying for the family they'd lost. I'd seen them two weeks before, when my mom had taken me and my— My chin trembled, but I ground my teeth together to stop it. When she'd taken us to 'd stayed only a few hours, though, just long enough to have lunch and a light, fun conversation.

Though Nana and Pops liked me and had always treated me well, I'd never been the favorite; I think I reminded them too much of my father, who had never been good enough for their only baby. Still, they weren't going to abandon me in my time of need, they said. I would move in with them, and they would see to everything. So, I would now be living in a two-story just as unremarkable as my own had been, but one that was mostly unfamiliar to me. One my dad had not built —one that was not reinforced for my protection. But that was no big deal. I'd never even stayed the night with a friend, never slept in any bed but my own. But yeah, no big deal.

I should care, wanted to care, but I was tapped out…empty… nothing but a shell.

The doctors and nurses threw out a thousand I'm sorry and you'll be okay. Words like fine. Such meaningless words. They were sorry? So what. That did nothing to bring my family back. I would be okay? Please. I'd never be okay again.

What did they know about losing the only people they loved, anyway? What did they know about being alone? When their shifts ended, they would go home. They would hug their kids, share a meal and talk about their days. Me? I would never again enjoy something as simple as that.

I had no mother.

I had no father.

I had no bro…family.

Heck, I think I was even without my sanity. Those monsters…

Cops came by, and so did a social worker and a therapist. They all wanted to know what had happened. The cops, especially, were interested in knowing if a pack of wild dogs had attacked my parents. Wild dogs. I'd seen no wild dogs, but that made a whole lot more sense than what I had seen.

I said nothing, though. We'd flipped and we'd crashed. The authorities knew that much and that was all they needed to know. I would never mention the monsters; there was no reason to. The concussion was responsible for that little gem of a hallucination, surely.

I would never mention the fact that my mom had been in the car with me when I first opened my eyes after passing out. But the next time I'd opened them? Her body had been outside the car, the headlights spotlighting her just as they'd spotlighted my dad, her body jerking and writhing as the things dove inside her, disappearing for endless seconds before coming back up for air. Her skin had bubbled up, as if burned and turned black, before finally splitting open and welling with blood.

Though I'd tried with all my strength, I hadn't been able to free myself and save her. My belt had been fused to my seat, locking me in place. And when the monsters had next focused on me, evil eyes piercing me, taking one step, two, toward the car, I'd panicked, desperate to protect my…other family member.

Before either of us could be taken—by the wild dogs, I told myself now—another car had come by, spotted us and sent the beasts running. Though running wasn't the best word. Some had seemed to trip, some had seemed to glide. I don't remember much after that. Just flashes. Bright lights shining in my eyes. Sounds, like metal grinding against metal, and men shouting at each other. Then a pair of strong hands lifting me, something sharp poking at my arm, something being fitted over my that, nothing.

"Hey. You're Gol D. Ace, right?"

I blinked out of the hated memory fog and turned my head toward the room's only door. A pretty boy, probably my age, stepped inside. He had curly blonde hair that frames his face; ocean blue eyes, and sun tanned skin. He rocked a long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt that read I'm With Genius with an arrow pointing up, black pants with a buckle with a flower design that wrapped around his waist. He's actually wearing a top hat with goggles on it. Weird.

Needless to say, my ugly paper-thin gown with uneven ties did not compare.

"Yes, I'm Ace," I said. They were the first words I'd uttered in what seemed forever. My throat was raw, my voice hoarse. I just couldn't let him call me Gol D. Ace again. The last person who had was…never mind. I just couldn't let him. "I'm Ace," I repeated.

"Cool. I'm Sabo. And do not make mistake me for a girl or I'll have to hurt you. With my nails." He waved the chipped tips of his fingers at me. "Truth is I stopped speaking gay language a long time ago."

Speaking gay? "I'm guessing calling you Pretty Boy is out." I don't know where my burst of humor sprang from, but I wasn't going to fight it. All of my energy was needed fighting everything else. "But what about Mad Hatter?"

His lips twitched into the semblance of a grin. "Ha ha. But now I'll be disappointed if you don't call me Mad Hatter." He shifted back on his heels, the movement graceful, fluid. "So, uh, my visit. Let's get the info exchange out of the way first. My mom works here, and she brought me with her today. She said you could really use a friend, or something equally tragic like that."

"I'm **fine**," I rushed out. There was that stupid word again. **Fine**.

"I know, right? That's what I told her." Sabo sauntered over, pulled the only chair in the room next to my bed, turned it the wrong way and plopped down. "Besides, people don't open up to strangers. That'd just be weird. But she's my mom, and you're clearly in need of a shoulder to cry on, so what was I supposed to say? No? Even I'm not that cruel."

His pity wasn't something I'd accept. "You can tell your mom I was rude and kicked you out."

"Also," he continued as if I hadn't spoken, "life's way too short to wallow in sorrow, I know. Anyway, as I'm sure you've already deduced, I'm stellar company. And guess what? There's an opening in my Fave Five—not those old lame phone commercials, but my actual inner circle—and I'm actively looking to fill the top spot. We'll just consider this your interview."

Somehow, his little speech caused that flicker of good humor to stir back to life. I couldn't help but say, "Your top spot is a job, then?"

"Of course." He tipped his top hat. "I don't want to brag, but I'm very high maintenance."

"Uh, I think low maintenance is what's desirable."

"Low maintenance is what's forgettable. You might want to write that down, underline it, circle it and put a star by it. It's golden." With barely a breath, he added, "Now let's find out if we're compatible, shall we?"

O-kay. We were gonna do this thing, then. We were gonna go all the way. See Ace pretend everything is beyond peachy. "Sure. We shall."

"So…you lost everyone, huh?" he asked.

Talk about kicking things off with a bang. But at least he hadn't offered platitudes or tiptoed around the subject. Maybe that's why I responded to him with a croaked "Yeah." It was more than I'd offered anyone else.

"Bummer."

"Yeah."

"You gonna eat that?" She pointed to the vanilla pudding someone had brought me earlier.

"Nope."

"Awesome. I'm starved." With a wide, white grin, he confiscated the pudding and the spoon and settled back in his chair. One taste left him moaning with satisfaction. "So check this out and tell me if you agree."

"Uh, okay." I had a feeling I'd be uttering "uh" many more times before this conversation ended. Even sitting there, he was like a whirlwind of energy I had no idea how to contain.

After another bite of the pudding, he said, "Here goes. See, my boyfriend and I decided to stay together for the summer, you know, even though he had to go visit some family in least, that's what he told me. And before anything else, yes I'm gay. Now, carry on. Anyway, everything was fine at first, because you know, we talked every night, and then he just stopped calling. So I called and texted him like the good boyfriend I am, and it wasn't stalkerish, I swear, because I stopped after, like, the thirtieth time. A week goes by before he finally hits me back, and he was totally drunk and all, hey, baby, I miss you and what are you wearing, like no time had passed, and I was all, you so do not deserve to know."

Silence.

He watched me, expectant, as he took another bite of pudding. I was tempted to search the room to make sure he'd directed the information overload at me. The few friends I'd made over the years had shared stories about their lives and their boyfriends (gay boyfriends mind you), of course, but none had ever done so at minute one or with such a flare for detail.

"Well?" Sabo prompted.

Oh, right. This must be the part where I render my verdict. Agree or disagree. "I…agree?"

"Exactly! And get this. He called me by the wrong name. Not during sex or anything like that, because if that had been the case, I would have killed him, and he would have been too busy being dead to try and explain, but on the phone, during our last conversation."

Took me a minute of mind- mapping to wade through everything he'd said and find the X that marked the spot. "That sucks?" I'd meant to make a statement, but again I ended up asking a question.

"I knew you'd get me! It's like we were separated at birth. So, anyway, he and I had just hung up—well, I'd hung up on him, a real nice slam I'm still patting myself on the back for delivering—and my phone rings again, and he's all, hey Kid. I'm like, Kid? What are you doing calling Kid? He stumbles around for a lie, but I knew. He's a dirty man-whore cheating he-slut and I'm done with him."

"Good." Well, well. What do you know? I was capable ofmaking a statement. "Cheaters are scum."

"Worse than school starts back up, I'm throwing down with that boy, and not in a good way. He promised to love me and only me forever and ever and even after forever ended, and he needs to pay for lying. Kid can just suck it raw and hopefully die of some terrible disease. He doesn't deserve my precious time."

School. Ugh. Here was another aspect of my life that would change. "Where do you go?"

"New World High. You know, best school ever."

"My parents went there." Ugh again. Why'd I have to bring them up? I fisted the sheet, wishing I could snatch the words back. I could pretend tobe normal, but only if the discussion stayed away from everything personal.

"How about you?" he asked, not pursuing my slipup.

Good, that was good. "Grand Line Academy." Not anymore, though. My grandparents lived in…the New World district, I realized. Guess I'd be seeing a lot more of Sabo after summer break. I opened my mouth to tell him, but just as quickly closed it. No reason to light that particular fire.

"A Grand Rookie, huh?" he said. "We kicked your butt last year on the field and the court. Go Super Nova! I'm sure you cried about it, so here's your warning for this year. You're going to lose again, and you're going to cry again. Sorry. The sooner you get used to the idea, the faster you'll heal." He finished off the pudding and claimed my cup of water,tossing my straw aside and drinking from the rim. "So, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." I cringed. Where that came from?

One blonde brow arched, and his lips pursed. "Girlfriend?"

"No."

"Too bad. Not about the girlfriend, though that would have been cool because you would have been my first normal friend with a normal genderly relationship and I would never have to worry about you stealing my man like that hobag Kid, but about the boyfriend. You could have set me up with one of his friends and I could have texted my ex pictures of our fake, steaming- hot love affair. So, hey, do you want me to steal a wheelchair and spring you? We can head down to the cafeteria and grab a burger. They aren't the best, but after my pudding appetizer, I really need a meal. And, just for future reference, hunger makes me mental."

Leave the room? Enter the world? "No, thanks." I settled more firmly against my mound of pillows, forced a yawn. "I'm kinda tired."

He held up his hands, palms out in innocence and understanding, reminding me of—no one—and stood. "Say no more. I feel you. I'll take off and let you rest." A few steps brought him to the door, where he paused to look back at me. "You know, I think I'm going to like you, Ace-y. I'll need a few more visits to help me decide for sure, but yeah, I think we'll be tight and you'll soar to the top of my Five." And then he was gone.

* * *

As it turned out, I stayed at the hospital only one more night. I didn't see Sabo for the rest of the summer, which was probably for the best. He was a nice guy, and I was bad company, and if he'd spent any more time with me he might have changed his mind about my acceptability. "Tight" would have become "please, please, please, never come near me again." I doubted I would have even made him Fave Fifty.

Can you tell I was a depressed, neurotic and narcoleptic mess?

To my consternation, my grandparents saw right through my "I'll be okay" murmurs and spent hours, days, weeks, trying to cheer me up. They were wonderful people, they really were, but I know I frustrated them.

I should be crying, they said. I'd feel better. What I couldn't bring myself to tell them was that my tears were on lockdown. Every day I could feel the burn of them behind my eyes, but the droplets never formed, never fell. And to be honest, the lack didn't bother me. I didn't want to cry. Deep down I had accepted the fact that I deserved to suffer…to seethe on the inside.

Actually, I deserved worse.

When the day of the funeral dawned, I stunned everyone, including myself, by asking to skip it. I just…I couldn't stand the thought of seeing where my family would spend the rest of eternity, rotting for years before disappearing altogether. And even though that would have counted as the "worse," I still wanted to remember them as they'd been: alive and vibrant. But of course, my grandparents denied my request. On the drive over, I sat in the backseat of their sedan. Today they were dressed in head-to- toe black, as was I. They'd bought me fancy new clothes. I really wish they hadn't gone to the trouble or the expense. I would have rather worn a potato sack. This was a terrible day, and I would have liked my clothing to reflect that.

Anyway. I didn't want to thinkabout me. Nana had styled her shoulder-length peach hair into a loose bob that hid the paleness of her cheeks. She clutched a tissue in her shaky fist and continually dabbed at her watery eyes. She'd lost family, too, I reminded myself. I wasn't the only one suffering. I should try to help her with her loss, should act the way she wanted me to act, but…I just couldn't.

"Do you want to say a few words honoring the, uh,deceased?" Pops asked after clearing his throat. His graying hair had receded so much at the sides that he had a major widow's peak. The rest was thinning and yes, he sported a cringe-worthy comb- over. How my mom had loved to tease him about that. "Ace?"

I didn't need to think about my reply. "No, thank you."

Nana twisted to face me. Hereyelids were puffed, the skin underneath splotched with red and her makeup streaked. I had to look away. Those golden eyes were too familiar, the pain inside them too… reflective.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I know your mother would have wanted—"

"I'm sure," I rushed out. Just the thought of standing infront of everyone and sharing my favorite memories caused a cold sweat to break out on my skin. No way. Just no way.

Her tone gentled as she said, "This is your chance to say goodbye, Gol D. Ace." Gonna be sick. "Call me Ace. Please. And I…I can't say goodbye." I wasn't ever going to say goodbye. Part of me still clung to the idea that therewas a chance I'd wake up and discover all of this was simply a bad dream.

A weary sigh left her, and she returned her attention to the front. "All right. I don't think what you're doing is healthy, but all right."

"Thank you," I said, relief causing me to wilt against my seat rest of the drive passed in silence, only the occasional sniffle to be heard. What I would have given for my iPod. I'd play Skillet or Red and pretend I was dancing with— myself. But I hadn't gone home to pack my things. I hadn't wanted to go home. Nana had done that for me, and technophobe that she was, she'd probably had no idea what that little Nano could do.

At last we reached our destination and walked to the grave sites. There would be no church service. Everything was to be done here. Which wasn't right. My mother had loved to go to church, and my dad had hated cemeteries, had died at the edge of one—of this one, to be morbidly specific— and they were going to bury him here? That was wrong on so many levels, and ticked me off.

He should have been what did I know? I was just the daughter who'd helped kill him.

Now, in the daylight—or what should have been daylight—I studied the place that had destroyed my life. The sky was dark and drizzly, as if the world wept for what it had lost. While I was right on board with that, my dad wouldn't have approved. He'd loved the sun. The hilly stretch of land was treed up just right, with a few bushes growing around some of the headstones and flowers of every color thriving in every direction.

One day there would be bushes and flowers around my family's headstones. Right now, there were just three big, empty holes, waiting for those closed caskets to drop. Once again I found myself the recipient of too many I'm sorry's and you'll be okays. Screw them all. I retreated inside myself, tuning out everything that was spoken during the ceremony, simply looking around. People around me wept into their tissues. There was Woopslap and Curly Dadan, my former neighbors, and their niece, Makino. She was a cute girl, a little younger than me. I can't remember how many times I'd thought that if I was a normal boy, with a normal life, I'd be sitting at my window, staring out at her house, imagining her closing the distance and telling me that she has a crush on me. Imagining we'd go to dinner, I'd walk her to her door, and kiss her. My first. Imagining she'd tell me that she didn't care how crazy my family was, that she liked me no matter what.

I never had. She never had. Now she cast me a sad smile, and I looked away.

When the pastor had finished, when my grandparents had said their piece, everyone stood and gathered in groups, talking, swapping stories. Too many of them congregated around me, patting my shoulders and giving me hugs. Actions I didn't appreciate or return. I just didn't have the strength to put on a dog-and- pony show so that I wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings.

I wanted to be in my bed, buried under the covers, pretending I had my old life back.

"He was such a happy and energetic child, wasn't he?" said someone at my side. A woman I couldn't quite place but knew I'd seen before was peering at the smallest casket, tears streaming down her red cheeks. "We're going to miss him. I remember this onetime…"

On and on she talked. I stood there, suddenly unable to breathe. I opened my mouth to tell her to shut up, but the words wouldn't form. I tried to walk away, but my feet were rooted in place, as if someone had poured concrete over my shoes.

"And then there was the time, in class, when he helped…"

A loud ringing sprouted in my ears and I couldn't make out the individual words. Didn't matter. I knew who she was talking about, and if she didn't get out of my face, I was going to lose it. Already I was spiraling into an abyss, screaming silently.

"…and the other boys and girls utterly adored him…"

Argh! Spiraling…spiraling out of control… I deserved this, I reminded myself. This was part of my "worse." My words, my insistence, had killed my family, and had put them in those boxes. Had I done anything differently, a single detail, they would still be alive. But I hadn't, and so here I was. There they were.

"…his talents, his spirit, were rare and glorious and I…"

The abyss threw me one way, then the other, cutting me up bit by bit, destroying me. The woman had to shut up. She just had to. Shut. Up. My heart felt pinned against my ribs, warping the beat, and if she didn't shut up I would die. I knew I would die.

"…used to tell me he wanted to be just like you when he grew up. He admired you so much..."

Shut up, shut up, shut up! But she kept talking and kept telling me all about my… brother…about Luffy…Luffy…gone…my idiotic mischievous brother…gone… I'd promised to keep him safe. I'd failed.

A scream ripped from my throat, followed right on the heels of another and another. I lost track of everything around me, clutched my ears to stop from hearing the utter horror in my voice, and fell to my , not just to my knees. I fell down, down, down, the abyss, a never-ending pit of despair, still screaming, screaming, consumed by grief, flooded by sorrow.

Hands patted at me, but I didn't calm. I screamed so loud and so long my voice eventually broke. I gagged and choked, tears pouring down my cheeks, pooling around me, a lake of misery. I cried so hard my entire body shook, and my eyes swelled shut. I couldn't breathe, didn't want to breathe anymore. Dying would have been a relief. I don't know what happened after that. For the second time in my life, I lost consciousness. Maybe I would never wake...

* * *

But of course, I awoke. In the days that followed, I tried to take comfort in the fact that the worst thing that could ever happen to me had already happened. Big surprise, that didn't help. But at some point, I finally accepted that this wasn't any kind of nightmare. This was my new reality, and I had better learn to deal or the tears would never stop flowing.

Each night I sat on the ledgeseat in front of my room's only window, looking down at my new backyard. There was half an acre of trees, hills and flowers, and a stockade fence that marked the property boundaries. Beyond the fence was a hill spotlighted by a golden sliver of moonlight, but because of the steepness of the incline, I couldn't see anything more than thick, towering trunks.

I was tired, but I wouldn't be sleeping. Any time I driftedoff, I dreamed of the accident. I preferred to spend my time searching for my dad's monsters, not sure whether I wanted to prove they existed or that they didn't, remembering all the times I'd caught my dad doing the same thing.

Dad had carried a gun, though I'd never heard him shoot it. Now I had to wonder if a gun would actually help. The monsters had slipped past human skin…like ghosts…orthe demons I'd been so unsure about.

This is ridiculous. The monsters weren't real. And yet, a few times since the accident, I was certain that I'd spied one. As if on cue, the bushes swayed. I leaned forward untilmy nose pressed into the glass. Probably the wind, I thought, even as I watched tree limbs stretch toward each other. Limbs, not arms, surely. And those were leaves, not hands. Surely.

A flash of white caught my attention, and I gulped. That wasn't a woman with stooped shoulders darting between the trees but a deer. Had to be a deer, but… Deer didn't wear wedding gowns, did they? I pumped a fist into the pane, rattling the entire window, and the woman—deer—darted away, swiftly hidden by the trees. I waited several long minutes, but she— it—never came back into view.

By the time the sun raised, my eyelids felt like sandpaper against my eyes. I had to stop doing this, had to stop torturing myself. Otherwise, I'd have to throw in the towel and admit I'd inherited my dad's crazy.

And wouldn't that just be irony at its finest?

With that thought, I didn't laugh with bitterness, cry, or even crawl into bed. I began planning the next night's watch.

* * *

What do you say?


End file.
